


Time Flies

by timerise



Series: bokuaka drabbles [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Konoha is just mentioned, M/M, and almost entirely self indulgent, idk i just needed to get this out of my system after in another life, its pretty introspective and almost nonlinear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timerise/pseuds/timerise
Summary: Where did the party go?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: bokuaka drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020282
Kudos: 16





	Time Flies

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the notes app of my phone for a friend while i had no reception

Time flies when you’re having fun. Bokuto was always having fun, so Akaashi assumed his life must move pretty quickly. Every moment was something to treasure, every failure an opportunity for reflection and growth. He had liked volleyball, liked his friends, liked his life. Bokuto had fun. 

Loathe as he was to admit it, Bokuto made his life more fun, too. Practices that normally would have droned on passed in a flash, games were intoxicatingly intense. Bokuto invented fun for Akaashi. Was that why their time together had been so short?   
  
Akaashi had stayed after like he normally did, intent on perfecting his set accuracy. They had suffered a recent loss, which Akaashi had taken strangely hard. He wouldn’t fail his team again. He had managed to line the entire volleyball court with waterbottles in his set positions. He wouldn’t go home until he knocked over all 18 in a row, without fail. 

He huffed, missing an easy target again. It was easier said than done, especially when his brain refused to focus. No, instead of his normal analysis capabilities, his brain was stuck in a sharp halt, tumbling over silver spikes and golden irises. 

Why now? He had ignored it for so long- Bokuto had even graduated and he had managed to keep everything hidden. Apparently though, come the first lost game with Akaashi as captain, thoughts of the former ace had returned. 

More than thoughts. Feelings. Longing for a time lost. Memories of hot chocolate after winter practices and warm hugs in the rain. Of delirious conversations after midnight and long, grueling training camps. With Bokuto. 

The losses too, shut down spikes to an Iron Wall- cross shots blocked with ease. Every moment with Bokuto was significant- and apparently more worth focusing on than the drill Akaashi had set up for himself. 

Then again... was it really just tonight? Or was tonight’s frustration simply the culmination of weeks of this limbo? 

Akaashi felt the ball slip out of his hands. This was not the first time he had lost himself. Practices were too quiet now- he couldn’t support the team like Bokuto had. Games lacked the team mindset that snapped into place whenever Bokuto gave in. It wasn’t just that, Akaashi hardly spoke at all now. His teammates had begun to notice. They checked in on him, attempting nonchalance. It worked evidently, Akaashi only realized what was happening when he was alone on the court after a rough game and practice. 

That made him angry. Who did Bokuto-san think he was, occupying Akaashi’s head rent free? It was painfully one sided- the object himself was happily off in college. It wasn’t fair. 

Akaashi picked the ball up off the floor and began the rounds again. He refused to think of how Bokuto would cheer him on- or barge in the middle and redirect his energy. One bottle, two, three- damn, he missed. 

_“Hey hey, that’s okay ‘Kaashi-kun! One more ‘gain. This time for sure.”_ That’s what Bokuto would have said right there. 

Akaashi literally shook his head in an attempt to clear the thoughts. He set the bottles back up and started again. One, two, three, four, five... six. First row cleared.   
_“Look at that! What did I say? Who’s the best? No, not me- you! You’re so cool, Akaashi!”_

Akaashi felt his knees hit the floor before he registered himself falling. 

Why did he have to be a year older? Why couldn’t Akaashi have had that one last year? They should have graduated together, finished volleyball together.   
His hands threaded into his hair, tugging sharply to ground himself. This was idiotic, he was being stupid. He was the captain now- he had to man up and take charge and never ever lose another game. 

“Akaashi?” A voice called from the door. Akaashi sat up quickly, heart racing. Oh God, he was imagining things now, because that couldn’t be-

“Kaash, buddy, what’s going on?” Bokuto stepped into the almost empty gym. 

Akaashi rose to his feet, turning to face him. 

It had been months since he had seen Bokuto in person. He was even more toned- if that was possible. It had been raining outside- he was soaked. His jacket was dripping and his hair fell in a sheet over his eyes. Akaashi always like it better down. 

Oh. He was supposed to reply. “Bokuto-san, hello. I’ve been practicing.”

Bokuto stepped closer, worry etched between his brows. “Konoha called me- said you took the loss pretty hard. I’ve got plenty of experience with taking things too hard, do you want to talk about it?” 

That fucking snitch. “Bokuto-san, why are you here?” 

“I just told you, Konoha called me.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “I mean here. In Tokyo.”

Bokuto smiled and scratched at the back of his head- wet shirt pulling ridiculously over his chest. “I have a long weekend, figured I could come visit the team- see your progress?”

Akaashi looked down. “It’s very good to see you.”

“Yeah, sounds like it,” Bokuto chuckled. 

Akaashi had been fighting to keep his face as expressionless as possible. Was this what manifesting was? Having a breakdown in your empty gym to hear Bokuto laugh again? Akaashi’s lip twitched- this was a losing battle. 

“I mean it,” Akaashi said in earnest. “Things... aren’t the same around here.” 

Bokuto looked towards the door and Akaashi wondered how long he had been standing there. Long enough to drop his shoes by Akaashi’s, evidently. 

“Are you upset?” Bokuto asked. He was never one to beat around the bush.

“No,” Akaashi lied. He wasn’t convincing, because Bokuto asked again, like the answer would change. 

“Bokuto-san, I’m fine. You shouldn’t be here on your long weekend anyways.”

“What, are you gonna tell on me?” Bokuto grinned. 

Akaashi’s mouth twitched into a smile. Damn it. “I’m thinking about it.”

“Well, think about it later. Do you want to toss for me?”

Was that a joke? Akaashi had never said no in his life- he wasn’t about to start now. “Sure, just help me clear these bottles.”

They were set up then, and began like they always had. Like it hadn’t been months since Akaashi had last seen Bokuto, like he had never left at all. The smack of the ball from Bokuto’s hand to the floor across the way was a part of Akaashi’s conditioning- the rhythm bordering on Circadian. 

The two hit balls for a half hour, Bokuto chattering about this and that while Akaashi quietly agreed. He would be silent if Bokuto wanted- just to make him stay.

“You’re quiet,” Bokuto finally noted. 

“Is that surprising?” Akaashi asked dryly. 

“Well, no. Sort of. Normally you respond to stuff I say kind of funny like- where I say something dumb and you tell me it’s dumb and I play mad until you give me my favorite set.”

That’s the way things had been, Bokuto was right. That was a time before Akaashi knew what volleyball was without his ace. Now he just wanted to hear him, to know that he wasn’t dreaming.   
  
“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Bokuto paused, looking at him. “Akaashi. What’s wrong?” 

Akaashi blinked. Was he that easy to read? He stared at his shoes. He couldn’t answer that question. The answer made him weak, made him less, made him desperate and sad and-

Oh. His face was in Bokuto’s chest, strong arms around his waist. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s neck, planted his nose in his shoulder. 

“You’re shaking,” Bokuto murmured. 

“No I’m not,” Akaashi bumbled. 

“A little.”

“A little,” Akaashi agreed. They stood like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other. Bokuto smelled like rain and cologne and sweat and hair gel. He looked like a dream. He probably was.   
  
“Can we please talk?” Bokuto asked. “Your team is worried about you. ‘Kaash, I’m worried about you. Can’t have you breaking down at the start of the season.” 

How could he possibly explain?

“I missed you,” he settled for. 

“Yeah, you said,” Bokuto reminded. 

“No.” Akaashi pulled away reluctantly, just enough to look him in the eye. “Bokuto-san, I’ve been missing you. Really. Volleyball isn’t the same without you... It’s not fun.”

Bokuto furrowed his brow. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. I’ve done volleyball with you since the start... I don’t know where to go now.” Akaashi looked away, focusing on the net instead of Bokuto’s bright owl eyes. 

“Keiji, I mean that much to you?” 

Oh shit, he never called Akaashi by his personal name. Was he upset? Akaashi looked back- he couldn’t read him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, Kōtarō, you do. You mean the world to me.”

That felt like a confession. 

And apparently Bokuto took it as one, because an arm slipped tighter around his waist and chapped lips pressed tight against his mouth. 

Akaashi made a sound of surprise, frozen for a moment before kissing back, plastering himself against his chest. He made a home for himself in Bokuto’s arms- hands touching, feeling, committing the moment to memory. Bokuto pulled away at last, letting them both breathe from the bruising force of the kiss. 

“We should probably talk.”


End file.
